


i lied for you

by maureenbrown



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Drums, Holding Hands, M/M, minewt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7401223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maureenbrown/pseuds/maureenbrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, so maybe Minho has just been taking a music class just so that Newt could teach him how to play the drums. Minho’s great at instruments of all types; he can sing, play guitar, piano, and best of all, the drums.</p><p>In actuality, he entered the Glade (the name of the music store) hoping to learn how to play trombone, but ended up feigning confusion when he caught sight of an attractive, British blonde boy with long hair who was offering to each him the drums.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i lied for you

Okay, so maybe Minho has just been taking a music class just so that Newt could teach him how to play the drums. Minho’s great at instruments of all types; he can sing, play guitar, piano, and best of all, the drums.

In actuality, he entered the Glade (the name of the music store) hoping to learn how to play trombone, but ended up feigning confusion when he caught sight of an attractive, British blonde boy with long hair who was offering to each him the drums.

Seeing Newt for the first time made Minho go weak at the knees. He has a smooth accent and nimble fingers perfect for twirling drum sticks like a baton, and his quick, snarky comebacks and brief smiles make the other want to melt.

“Min, you okay? You’re kinda spacing out?” Newt asks into the Asian’s ear, moving to sit behind him and place his hands over Minho’s on the drum sticks. Minho hopes that his shudder isn’t too obvious.

“Yeah, just got some stuff on my mind.” He mumbles, turning to see the other boy over his shoulder, smiling once again.

“Need someone to talk to?” Newt asks, and despite his sometimes rough exterior, his tone does sound somewhat caring. Minho ponders confessing to him for good, so instead he scoots back minimally and leans against Newt’s chest.

“No, it’ll be alright. Anyways, can you show me how to work that pedal thing again?”

It’s called a beater. Minho knows that.

...

“Minho, never thought I’d see you here!” Thomas calls to his friend across the shop, and the Asian’s eyes widen as he scoots away from his instructor.

He gives a minimal shake of his head to Thomas, signaling that now is not a good time to talk, but, per usual, he doesn’t understand.

“Hey, why are you learning the drums?” Thomas asks curiously, tipping his head to the side.

“Thomas.” Minho says, hardening his jaw and glaring at his friend.

“You already know how to–” Thomas starts, and Minho cuts him off quickly, extending his arms.

“Thomas, stop!” He all but yells, turning to glance at Newt.

Newt’s expression is unreadable until his lips curl into a disappointed sneer, crossing his arms across his chest.

Minho feels like he’s been punched in the gut as he reaches out towards his instructor helplessly. “Newt, come on. Please, I can explain–”

“Save it, Minho. I don’t know why I even bothered wasting my time.” Newt snarls, and Minho blinks, taking a step back. He stares hopelessly at his teacher, waiting for him to change his mind, but he never does.

He smacks into a bewildered Thomas’ shoulder on the way out, though he doesn’t deserve it. Minho wishes he could hear his nickname rolled fluidly off of Newt’s tongue one more time.

...

He calls Newt a couple times after that. Once to tell him he’s sorry, and another time to ask if he can come back.

Newt doesn’t pick up the phone.

...

Eventually, Minho decides to go back to the Glade. He stands outside of the door for a good twenty minutes pondering his decision.

He’s been a wreck, to put it simply. It took him a couple months to forgive Thomas, but he’s been supportive through it all. He can practically hear his best friends’ voice in his ear, egging him to do the impossible and open the door.

Suddenly, his choice is made up for him as the door swings up, successfully hitting him in the chest and forcing him to stumble backwards, ending with him falling gracefully onto the sidewalk and scraping his elbow.

He scrambles back up to his feet, opening his mouth to swear, stopping himself when he sees Newt. He looks just as gorgeous as he did the day they met, and Minho couldn’t bother to care that he’s bleeding onto the pavement. Were his eyes always this blue? Was his hair always that long?

“Hey.” He mumbles finally, and Newt’s expression is just as wary.

“Uh… Hi. What’re you doing here?” Newt asks awkwardly, glancing furtively away from Minho, and the Asian’s heart clenches.

“I wanted to see you again.” Minho says slowly, judging Newt’s every reaction.

The British snorts, rolling his eyes once and crossing his arms protectively. “How am I to know that’s not a lie, too?” He inquires, and Minho drags a hand down his face exasperatedly.

“I apologized, okay? I meant it. I only…” Minho trails off, biting his worried lip to keep from spilling the truth.

“You only what?” Newt’s tone is frustrated, and Minho pushes his fingers through his hair.

“I only… I lied. I lied about not knowing how to play the drums because I wanted you to teach me. You seemed really nice and you were attractive, so I lied.” Minho confesses finally, meeting Newt’s eyes and hoping he doesn’t look too fearful.

When Newt doesn’t speak for a while, Minho lets out another soft apology, and the British just shakes his head.

Minho braces himself for anything, a slap, or maybe even Newt walking away. At least he told the truth.

Instead, Newt shuffles closer and holds his hand out almost timidly. “Are there… Are there any instruments you don’t know how to play?”

Minho takes his hand. He’s not sure he’s ever beamed that much before.


End file.
